


Permission to Love

by GlowingMechanicalHeart



Series: ASoIaF Rare Pair Week [9]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: ASOIAF Rare Pair Week, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arranged Marriage, Don't copy to another site, F/M, Falling In Love, From resentment to love, Love/Hate, Mentions of childbirth, Pre-Canon, Resentment, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-16
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:22:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23173879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingMechanicalHeart/pseuds/GlowingMechanicalHeart
Summary: Cersei is not a Queen. Instead, she is the Lady of Winterfell and now must live with a husband she does not love. Until.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister/Ned Stark
Series: ASoIaF Rare Pair Week [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1663312
Comments: 42
Kudos: 343
Collections: ASOIAF Rarepair Week, Cersei POVs, The Good Ship NedSei - Ned/Cersei Fics





	Permission to Love

**Author's Note:**

> For ASOIAF Rare Pair Event 'A Dream of Spring', day 2 children. Also fills the following prompt: She never loved her husband ‘til she loved their child.
> 
> Note: The nephew in question is Jon, but I felt it was better if Ned claimed him as his nephew through Brandon, than his own son or worst, Lyanna's.

Cersei curses the Gods.

She should have been Queen, she had been promised. Unfortunately for her, it seems like the Gods are having a good laugh at her expense. She could not be Rhaegar nor Robert’s Queen, instead, she had been wed to the North.

She remembered clearly the moment, when her father had summoned her to King’s Landing. She had felt victorious then, she could almost feel the weight of the crown on top of her head. But it was not to be. Robert Baratheon had married Catelyn Tully, and her father had arranged for her to marry Eddard Stark.

She had raged, cried and begged. All for nothing. Her father had simply ordered her to be ready, so she did. Her aunt had been a source of comfort, but it didn’t take the bitterness out of her mouth. 

Eddard - Ned as he insisted she call him - was a dull man. He had not the spark that Robert had, nor the grace Rhaegar did. Nor the charm of Jaime. He was quiet, almost sullen and looked grim always. He was polite and did his best to indulge her, he spoke to her as much as he was able to.

Their wedding had been near as grand as Robert’s to Catelyn. Their wedding night almost disappoints. Almost because he is a tender lover, he is quiet and dutiful - even in bed, it seems. But she comforts herself of not having to deal with a drunken bastard, at least her husband is thoughtful of her comfort. Even if what she wants instead is passion. At least, a way to forget the dreams that are now shattered.

The way North is hard and slow. Cersei curses the Gods once more, as she travels in her wagon. Jeyne Farman titters about, talking about a new adventure in the North. She resists the urge to scream at her. It’s only when they arrive at White Harbor that she is thankful, at least, a city. Lord Manderley gifts her bolts of cloth, both in red and grey and a sapphire jewelry set in silver. She thanks him, the very image of politeness, she might not like the North, but it would be unwise to make it obvious the moment you step foot on it. 

But the North is cold and she’s shivering. And it’s almost offensive how the others barely notice it. Instead, it’s her who shivers and wraps herself in furs.

She is welcomed like a Queen when they arrive at Winterfell, which is something that at least comforts her. The whole place is dull and grey, much like the rest of the North and she thinks, rather unkindly, that it matches her husband. At least it’s not as cold as outside.

She’s given the warmest room in Winterfell, alongside extra furs. Jeyne finds things to be excited about and she, the one stuck with this permanently, silently curses her. But she is the Lady of Winterfell now, and people pay her proper due. There’s a part of her that she is quite pleased with that.

She is less pleased with the babe Ned has, her rage is about to spill over when Ned looks at her, quite tired and grief stricken, “My nephew,” he says, choking on the words. “Brandon’s boy, I couldn’t leave him. I swear to you my lady, he is my nephew, not my son. My honor could not allow me to abandon him.”

Her rage passes at that. A bastard nephew she can live with. A bastard of his own she won’t tolerate. But Brandon Stark is dead and buried, and her husband feels honor bound to raise his nephew. That is fine. She can live with that. So long her husband doesn’t try and bring any bastards of his own, she can cope with a nephew. “That is fine,” she says. “Your lord brother is not here to care for him, so you must.”

Time passes slowly, and her husband comes to her bed out of duty. Outside their chamber, he treats her with proper respect, does his best to talk to her, listen to what she has to say and asks her opinions on things. She is surprised when he takes her advice on occasion. Pleased, but she still doesn’t allow herself to love this stranger.

And then, her stomach swells.

Ned - that is as far as her walls have fallen - makes sure she lacks for nothing. Tells her to rest and care for herself and their child. Jeyne fuzzes and she has to restrain herself not to strangle. Her father sends her a letter, saying that is well that she is consolidating her position in the North.

She wants a son, a boy that she can raise and mold. A boy that would secure her position and her bloodline on Winterfell’s Lordship. Her husband is incredibly kind, and she is sure that is the babe who is making a mess of her. She still refuses to love him.

But Ned is good. Almost too good to be true. She has heard stories of men who take mistresses, and her Lannister pride will not allow it. But Ned is faithful, not even the slightest rumor or whisper about him and other women. Be ladies, servants or whores. He keeps to her bed and cares for her. Yes, it’s the babe, nothing more.

Her pains come at night, and she sends Jeyne to fetch both Ned and the maester. Ned refuses to leave her side while she labors. Another thing he’s different. Not many men enter their wives’ birthing room. And yet, here he is. Sitting behind her, letting her weight fall upon his chest, gently wiping her sweaty hair away and holding her hands as she screams.

The babe comes, a boy, the maester declares. And she feels victory and relief, she has done her duty. Winterfell has an heir and it’s her son. Once the babe is cleaned, Maester Luwin places the babe on her chest, and she holds her screaming babe with pride. And something inside her heart cracks. This boy will be the pride of the North, she’ll make sure of it. And he already is a mix of them both. Pride swells in her chest.

Then, she passes the babe to Ned. “Your son, my lord.”

Ned takes their son with utmost care, and she feels a knot in her throat when she sees the amount of emotion in his face. His usual long, grim face is softened, his eyes are shining and there’s a gentle smile on his lips. Ned will never be as handsome as other men, but in that moment, she can admit to attractiveness. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, a reverential tone to his voice. “Thank you for this gift my lady. Truly.”

There is so much warmth and tenderness on his voice, that the crack in her heart continues and shatters. “Maybe next one will also be a son.”

“Perhaps, but we have time.” He says and means it.

Little Robb grows and her pride swells when his eyes turn green and green remain. He is a mix of the two, and she loves him. She loves this little boy, and already knows that she would move heaven and earth for him. Ned is a good father too, he cares for his son in a way most men don’t. Cares for her too.

And time passes, she grows used to the strangeness of the North. And two and half years later, her stomach swells again. “Another boy, I’m sure,” she tells Ned.

“Daughters would be welcomed too,” he says, never taking his eyes off hers. “Daughters are precious, and I would not object to a few little girls who look like you running about. But we have time.”

In the end, her newest babe is a girl. And she wonders if this is what her mother felt when she knew she had a daughter, she worries, she knows that the world is unkind to women, but Ned is thrilled at their daughter’s birth. She watches transfixed as Ned holds their daughter, smiles down at the babe and swears to love and protect her for as long as he lives.

And she loves her children. And in that moment, she knows that she does indeed love her husband. Because she knows he speaks the truth. If every babe she births from now on is a girl, her husband will love them all, fiercely and without reserve. His son is already loved. 

Then Ned returns their babe to her arms. She looks at him, a smile coming to her face. She is tired, sweaty and positively disgusting, but the love she has for her child is something fierce and she will love any that come after them. Because she intends to have more children. And she will love them. And she finally permits herself to love her husband too.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, don't hesitate to comment!


End file.
